The Luna on a Chain

Raindrops streamed down the windows, tracing simple, delicate paths.The rain had started so suddenly that I had to go back for my umbrella. The car keys were missing, which meant I’d have to pick my friend up from the hospital on foot—or sacrifice a few hundred for a taxi.Opening the umbrella, I stepped out of the building and walked briskly down the sidewalk. Puddles had already formed underfoot, threatening to seep into my black pumps. The shoes were definitely a poor choice for the day, but I was already running late, and there was no time to turn back.A sudden idea crossed my mind—to take a shortcut. My legs acted on it immediately, carrying me into the courtyards between the apartment blocks.How quickly I came to regret that decision. The puddles here were enormous, some so wide I had to jump over them. During one of those leaps, one of my heels gave way and snapped.“Of course,” I muttered in frustration, limping onward.But fate clearly wasn’t finished with me yet. Out of n

“Oh, hell no! I’m not handing my friend over to you fang-faced bastards!” I shouted, spraying the contents of the bottle straight into the man’s face.At first, he inhaled slowly through his nose with exaggerated composure—but within seconds, he clutched at his throat and dropped to one knee, still gripping his burden.The men behind him stirred, and without hesitation, I spun around and sprayed them too.None of them had expected that kind of reaction from an ordinary spray. Of course they hadn’t.I had been hiding from werewolves for nearly two years now—my defenses were designed specifically for them, not for humans.The first one was already recovering from the tranquilizer, so I didn’t waste any time. I yanked my friend off his shoulder.The man snarled, fury blazing in his eyes, and the first ripples of partial transformation spread across his arms.That wasn’t good.Dragging my friend a few steps back, I tried to hoist her over my shoulder—but the world suddenly tilted.A secon

Morning came again, and once more, I was locked in the room.My nerves were completely shot. I wanted to break something—anything. I couldn’t take this anymore.If Maya wants to be with him, fine. She’s a grown woman; she’ll handle it. The mate bond won’t let the Alpha hurt her anyway, so there’s no reason to worry. And if she ever decides to leave him, I’ll help her.I walked to the window and looked outside. With nothing else to do, I watched the guards patrolling the grounds. The window opened easily, so when one of them passed directly beneath it, I made a desperate decision.Climbing onto the windowsill, I carefully swung my legs over onto a narrow ledge on the other side—and jumped. My natural agility hadn’t failed me. I landed softly on the grass and slipped into the garden, deciding to hide there before making my way toward the small gate that led out.Step by step, I reached the exit—only to find it locked tight.“Damn you,” I hissed, kicking the gate.There was no other opti

I walked into the restaurant with an easy, confident stride, scanning the room for my friend. She was seated at a table in the far corner—with her Alpha. I had to admit, Maya was glowing. I hadn’t seen that kind of sparkle in her eyes in a long time. She was completely captivated. And the man beside her looked just as taken. His gaze drifted away from his mate and settled on us.Max guided me to their table and took a seat across from Maya. We exchanged polite greetings before falling into a strained silence. Kirill shot me a displeased look—apparently, he still hadn’t forgiven me for the incident with the spray. Then he drew Maya closer, resting a possessive hand on her shoulder, and glanced at me again, almost as if issuing a challenge.I rolled my eyes with a quiet sigh. Relax. I’m not stealing her from you, I thought. Especially not when I can see how genuinely happy she is.The chair beside me scraped loudly against the parquet floor, and I turned sharply. Max had shifted closer,

The interview had barely begun, and my eyelid was already twitching with irritation. Mr. Victor had once again skipped work, leaving me to deal with everything.One guy demanded a salary worthy of a top Hollywood star. Another insisted on a completely flexible schedule. And the third finished me off with his question: “Can I take home the leftovers?”My head was pounding. I honestly couldn’t understand how I had managed to get through all their resumes earlier. Out of all the candidates, only two seemed remotely adequate. One was a middle-aged, slightly chubby man with an oddly styled pair of mustaches. The other was a young man about my age. He was quiet, but his answers were solid—even impressive.Now I just had to figure out which one was better.The three of us headed into the kitchen. I showed them the workspace and asked each to prepare one dish—anything of their choice. I’d already tasted everything on the Peach Paradise menu, so judging wouldn’t be a problem.The younger man c